


The Wrong Ones

by TwinEnigma



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Identities, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: yj_anon_meme, Gen, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Prompt Fill, Secrets, Young Justice Anon Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4908733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinEnigma/pseuds/TwinEnigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has secrets and nowhere is that more true than on Young Justice.  None of them are quite who they appear to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Match

He doesn’t have a name, not like Superboy, but he _wants_ one, especially now that he hears it rolling around in his predecessor’s mind. He is, after all, supposed to be his match in every way, but instead he rests in his pod, a passenger on the edge of consciousness of his predecessor that has even less autonomy than him. He covets the memories of waking and walking that his predecessor has like an envious miser.

And now his predecessor has a name. Not a designation, mind, but a name.

He wants one, too.

He _wants_ and _desires_ and _longs_ for everything that Superboy has, everything he doesn’t. He wants with every fiber of his being, wants until it _hurts._

So, when Desmond terminates his predecessor for sparing the intruders and activates him, he doesn’t hesitate for the chance to _take_ everything that would have been Superboy’s from the dying consciousness into himself: his memories, his anger, his curiosity, the childlike wonder, _all of it._

And then, when he stands up in defiance and frees the intruders, he becomes more than just a _match._

He becomes all that Superboy ever wanted and more.

He becomes free.


	2. Inertia

He runs.

He runs from the past, from the future, and he runs from the truth.

It’s easier than stopping and facing who and what he is, the future that threatens to unfold and devour him and the friends he never knew he could have. It’s easier than admitting his friends are legends of history, so ephemeral and distorted through the eons that he hadn’t recognized them as the idols he’d so long admired when he’d first met them.

Sometimes, he thinks he’ll stay, but then he remembers that there’s already a Wally West in the past, a _future_ Flash _,_ and he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep using this name before the child it’s truly meant for appears.

When he appears.

 _If_ he appears.

In those brief moments he _stops_ running, he thinks he already knows that he can’t go back to being a boy torn between legacies, a weapon meant to supplant and destroy his twin, all to better hurt the man he has come to call Uncle. Something in him rebels against the blood of super villains in his veins and maybe it’s that other half of himself his maternal grandfather tried so hard to suppress, the half that is _Allen,_ the half that is impulsive and innocent. On the edge of sleep, when he’s at his stillest and surrounded by signs of the West’s affection for him, his mind whispers that maybe he was always supposed to be here, to let his hair get redder and redder, until he _became_ the Wally West that his history books always talked about and Thaddeus disappears, a failed weapon swallowed by the timestream.

But when he wakes, all he wants to do is run.

Run as far as he can.

Because in his heart, he’s not sure he can be the Wally history remembers.

And that fact terrifies him.


	3. White

Her reflection is green.

It’s a smooth, flawless camouflage, on that her teammates and Uncle have never questioned, a fact she is secretly grateful for.   Not that she likes keeping secrets, mind, but she supposes she’s just become used to hiding who she really is.

It’s safer this way, anyway. Being green, that is. And she likes it, being green, being seen for the person she truly is and not her caste. But still, there are times, like now, when she doesn’t want to hide, when she wants to be herself without hiding.

She could never even entertain the thought of it on Mars, but Earth is different. On Earth, it _is_ possible. Only on Earth, where _anything_ is possible, can she stop hiding behind this mask of green she’s crafted for herself and experience true freedom.

She lets the green pale, watching her reflection shift.

One of these days, she’ll tell her teammates, and hopefully they’ll understand. After all, she’s not the only one with secrets. Still, there’s no guarantee how they’re react and, as much as she wants to come clean, she can’t lose them. She needs them and fears what they’ll think, because she doesn’t know what they’ve been told about her caste.

She stops shifting.

Her reflection is Caucasian.

It would take only a little effort to leech the rose from her skin and reveal her true self.

The color drains from her skin, her hair smoothing and paling until it disappears, and she is once more her true self: white.

She stares at her reflection silently. It would take only a few moments to walk out of her room and tell everyone. She’d do it fast, like ripping off a bandaid, and then she could walk around without this secret always weighing her down, holding her back.

She could do it.

She hesitates, her skin shifting back to green.

Not today.

She’s not ready.


	4. Jaybird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a semi-graphic description of putrefaction. Please be advised.

He doesn’t remember much from before Haly’s Circus. Maybe it’s because he was too young or too traumatized by the whole ordeal, or maybe it’s that he just _doesn’t_ want to remember.

It’s easier to just forget there was ever a time _before_ and focus on all the good times and happy memories of Haly’s and the family he’d been welcomed into, but it’s not like that’s without its own drawbacks. When he thinks of them, he remembers how he misses them all so much. He even misses his cousin John’s _teasing_ , for God’s sake _._ It had always annoyed him, but now when he thinks about it, it just aches. They weren’t just _like_ family: they _were_ family, like families were always supposed to be and some dim part of himself remembers he’d never known until the Graysons.

Being Robin helps. It gives him focus, an outlet for all this anger, fear and frustration that crawls through his veins. He’s gotten much better at shutting out all the things that remind him of what happened that night and working his way through the worst of the near-debilitating flashbacks that pop up. It’s not easy, but he’s coping. He even finds the compartmentalization of his life and cultivation of a civilian mask separate from his true personality to be soothing. And yet, he never really gives any thought to his past from before the circus until the nightmares come back, because he hasn’t been that kid since he became Dick Grayson and he _likes_ being Dick Grayson.

Dick never starved a day in his life.

Dick’s mom and dad were always there for him.

Dick didn’t get screamed at or called names due to withdrawls.

Dick never went without hugs or friendly noogies or getting tucked in.

Dick got to travel all kinds of cool places and he got toys that didn’t fall of the back of a truck. He got to fly on the trapeze and work with all sorts of cool things in a _circus_ every day. He had everything, even a name of his own choosing. Is it any wonder that he chooses to forget who he used to be?

At least, that is, until the nightmares return.

The nightmares have a trigger, he knows that much, and it’s one he tries his hardest to avoid: the smell of _decomposition,_ a smell he’d recognize in an instant anywhere in the world. Sometimes, even just thinking about it makes him ill. But he knows, knows the instant he catches a whiff of it, he’ll _remember_ again and then he’ll have nothing but horrific nightmares of sitting in that Crime Alley apartment for days, half-starved, with his stepmother’s bloated, marbled corpse. And they always seem to get worse as time goes on.

These days, when he gets one of these nightmares, it’s not just his step mother on the couch, bloated and marbled with unseeing eyes and crusted vomit on her face. It’s his cousin, blowflies circling the skin that is starting to slip. It’s his aunt, the exposed and ruptured organs teeming with maggots. It’s his mom and dad, oozing rotting tissue, and his birth father, already a screaming skeleton, the gunshot wounds from Two Face lingering on the remains of his rotted suit. It’s everyone he cares about, from Alfred and his uncle, to the League and all his friends on Young Justice, dead and decaying. It’s Bruce, dying, choking on vomit, and he can’t help because he’s not Robin or Dick anymore: he’s Jason, a too-young, too-thin toddler who is afraid and doesn’t know what to do because _cops and ambulances don’t come here._

And sometimes, he’s still there in that apartment when he wakes, even as Bruce holds him and tries to assure him he’s safe.


	5. Sins of the Father

He knows everyone on this team has their secrets. He would be a poor leader if he did not. With some, he suspects it’s little more complicated than a matter of protecting their civilian families. With others, he intrinsically knows it’s, to put it in the surface colloquial, _a whole different ball game_.

Even he harbors his own secrets, though this one is, he suspects, a little heavier than most of them might be able to handle.

How does one explain that their biological father is a villainous monster, one who has hurt people they care about?

How indeed does one cope with that burden themselves? Is it better to bear it silently, as he has always done, or to own it openly and prove through action that any comparison is in error?

He does not know.

But if there is one thing his time on the surface world and working with this team has taught him, it is that damaging secrets have a way of getting out at the most inopportune times. It very nearly cost them dearly the last time he hid something of great magnitude from the team. It is not a mistake he endeavors to repeat.

He has no doubts that if his father knows who he is, there is a chance other villains he runs with will know, too, and, with this sort of secret, a failure to disclose could tear the team apart if it were to come out in a combat engagement. After all, how can they know where his loyalties lie if he hides this from them or even if he is capable of facing the man who sired him in combat?

Therein, of course, is the issue. He never really knew his biological father in any familial capacity. To him, his sire is of little bearing on his life and chosen path. His father never raised him, nor had any contact with him. It was others, his mom and dad, who did so. He is loyal to his king, to the royal family, to his family, friends, and Atlantis. He is perfectly capable of facing his father, even knowing that he is one half the party responsible for his existence.

Blood does not make family. It does not confer automatic loyalty or weakness. That his father is a villain is merely a burden he must suffer to bear. He needs his team to understand that, to trust him as much as he trusts them in turn, and that means disclosing this fact to him. Maybe it will change things between him and his teammates, maybe it won’t, but at least this way, the secret of his past can’t be used against them.

He will tell them the truth: Black Manta may have sired him, but he is _not_ his dad.

He calls the meeting.


	6. Liberation

“I have called this meeting because I have recently been made aware of a secret regarding my person, one that may impact the team,” Aqualad says formally. He sits, straight-backed with his head held high and his fingers pressed together in a steeple, but all of them can see that he is nervous. He adds, “I wanted you to hear it from me directly, instead of finding out later from someone who may not have our best interests at heart.”

Kid Flash raises his hand. “Question! Is this like the India mission type secret?”

“No,” Aqualad says. “It is of a highly personal nature.”

The speedster gawks. “Woah, like your secret ID?”

Robin narrows his eyes, leaning back in his chair, but does not say anything.

“As some of you are aware, I am half-Atlantean,” Aqualad says, glancing at Artemis and Robin. “My mother was a native of Atlantis and my father a surface dweller, such as yourselves. Until recently, I believed him to be Calvin Durham, the man who raised me, but it has come to my attention that this fact was in error.”

He pauses, pressing his lips together for a moment, before finishing: “My biological father is his former employer. You may know him as the supervillain Black Manta.”

Kid Flash’s mouth opens with an audible _oh_ , followed by: “Woah.”

Superboy just blinks. Miss Martian does not appear to know how to react and Robin simply has no response, probably already having been informed.

It is Artemis’s reaction that is completely unexpected: she laughs. It starts as a little bit of a giggle and then quickly goes into full blown laughter.

“Dude, not funny!” Kid Flash whispers, glaring at her.

“No, no, it _is_ funny!” Artemis says, now smiling broadly as she gestures to Aqualad. “Here I was thinking _I_ was the only one with supervillains in the family and, well… No offense, though, boss, but I think I got you beat.”

At that, even Superboy raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

Artemis takes a deep breath and then confesses: “My father is Sportsmaster. My mother _used to be_ Tigress. And KF, you’ve got my big sister’s mask as a souvenir.”

The speedster’s face screws up in thought for half a second and then goes right back into surprise. “Cheshire? Your sister’s _Cheshire?_ Does _Roy_ know?”

Artemis cocks her head to the side, shrugs a little, and waggles her eyebrows.

Aqualad, inwardly, is rather relieved and realizes that now several things about some of his previous conversations with Artemis now made much more sense. It is also rather reassuring to know he is not alone in having connections to the criminal element.

“Oh man,” Kid Flash says, slumping back in his chair. He then sits right back up, practically blurring, and gives them a cocky grin as he points at her. “But if you think that’s going to trump my villainous background, you’re sadly mistaken!”

That was certainly not anything Aqualad had expected to hear and he joins the rest of the group, looking at Kid Flash expectantly.

“See, Professor Zoom’s the Flash’s nemesis, right?” Kid Flash starts, standing up. “Well, this is sort of complicated, but, see, my name isn’t actually Wally – it’s Thaddeus Thawne – and my _parents_ aren’t actually my _real_ parents. I’m just kind of living with them because _I’mreallyfromthefuture._ ”

“Pardon?” Artemis says, leaning forward. “Did you just say what I thought you just said?”

“It’s _complicated!_ ” Kid Flash whines. “See, speedsters can run _so_ fast we can travel in time and my grandfather, well, _he’s_ a piece of work. He’s a descendant of Professor Zoom, big on the whole evil legacy of evil thing, and totally freaked out that Bart, my brother, ran all the way back to the past to become a Flash. So he cloned me and told me to run back and mess him up, but I… uh… kinda just went a little _too_ far back and then the Flash, who’s really my grandfather by the way – did I mention it was complicated –, picked me up and I was like _You’re totally AWESOME!_ And then he made me Kid Flash so I could keep using my powers and stuff, but for good, see?”

Artemis rolls her eyes and voices exactly what Aqualad and probably most of the team is thinking. “You’re making that up.”

“Well, when we finally run into my brother, then you’ll change your mind,” Kid Flash says loftily. He quickly counts on his fingers and adds, “If history hasn’t changed _too_ much, he should be showing up in a few years.”

“Is that meant to be reassuring?” Superboy asks, scratching his head in bewilderment.

Kid Flash shrugs, dropping back into his chair. “I dunno. Time travel’s confusing. I’m still trying to figure out if my being here _and_ posing as Wally West means the future is fixed or not.”

“I’m still not convinced over here,” Artemis says, leaning back in her chair and waving her hand dismissively.

Kid Flash gives her a withering look. “Do you think I’d really make up having a name as awful as Thaddeus?”

“Dunno, you tell me, _Wallace,_ ” Artemis shoots back with a smug grin.

“While we’re on the subject of secrets, I’m actually a white Martian,” M’gann pipes up, interrupting them before Artemis can finish knocking him about alliteration. All color drains from the Martian’s skin, leaving behind milky white flesh. She waves, smiling, and says: “Hello!”

Robin clears his throat and sits up. “Way to upstage me, guys. My birth father was just a lowly bagman for Two Face. So, how about this? My real name’s Jason Todd.”

“What?” Kid Flash says incredulously, turning to him. “Dude! I thought it was-”

“My first adoptive family changed it when they took me in. Didn’t quite match the act, if you get my drift,” Robin admits, shrugging.   “So, what about you, Superboy? Any secrets about your identity? Inquiring minds want to know.”

Superboy shrugs.

“Nothing?” Kid Flash asks, pouting a little. “Aw, man, come on! We’re spilling our guts out here!”

Aqualad shoots him a warning look: “Kid Flash.”

“There was another me,” Superboy pipes up suddenly, frowning a little as he taps his temple with two fingers. “In Cadmus, I mean. A match for myself. We were linked.”

Everyone’s eyes widen. Both Robin and Kid Flash pale. Aqualad folds his hands on the table and somberly asks, “Is he still with them?”

“He was terminated while you were unconscious,” Superboy says. He squirms a little under the scrutiny and taps his head again. “But he’s still alive, up here. He’s a part of me now.”

M’gann puts a reassuring hand on his and sighs, “Oh, Conner.”

And just like that, there’s a mental link up and it’s full of hugs, warm assurance that things will be okay now and acceptance. They are, as one, Young Justice, secrets and all, and it’s _liberating._

Suddenly, a white and red blur streaks through the room, completely harshing their link, and comes to stop in the doorway, revealing a boy with dark, reddish brown hair, in a white and red jumpsuit.

Everyone stares.

“Umhi, I’mIMPULSEwhereamI?” the boy asks, lifting up his goggles.

Kid Flash is on his feet in an instant, fuming. “You’re five years _early_ , twerp!”

“Oh!Oopssorrygottago!” the boy exclaims and disappears again.

“Told ya I was telling the truth,” Kid Flash says smugly.

Artemis rolls her eyes, “Whatever, _Thad.”_


End file.
